If in the air contagion,
Distemper words may bear.
Our words are real things,
And full of good or ill;
The tongue that heals or stings,
So needs the Master's will!
LXXXII.
The world has many a fool,
The schemer many a tool;
A mirror shows them,
The wise man knows them.
Ten thousand disguises,
Ten thousand surprises.
In wisdom is detection,
In righteousness protection.
LXXXIII.
To do good to another
Is thy self to well serve;
And to succor thy brother
For thyself is fresh nerve
And new strength for the battle,
In the dash and the rattle,
When thy foes press thee hard,
And thy all thou must guard.
LXXXIV.
Canst show a finer touch,
A grain of purer lore--
"I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more?"
LXXXV.
Frittered away,
Grace to begin
Duty to-day--
Wages of sin!
Truth out of sight,
Falsehood crept in,
Wrong put for right--
Wages of sin.
Self become god,
Eager to win
All at its nod--
Wages of sin.
Scorn of the seer,
Vanity's grin,
Darkness grown dear--
Wages of sin.
Trouble without,
Canker within,
Fear, hate, and doubt--
Wages of sin.
What is to be,
All that has been,
Shadows that flee--
Wages of sin.
Loss of the soul,
Wrangle and din,
Tragedy's dole--
Wages of sin.
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